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Falling for Anthony
By
Meljean Brook
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter One
TopNext
Appearances are almost always deceiving
The Doyen Scrolls
London, ENGLAND
MARCH 1811
A single glimpse at the disarray in Colin's bedchamber and, the valet's harried
expression was all Anthony Ramsdell needed to determine that his best course of
action would be to exit, and quickly. Colin Ames-Beaumont, the younger son of
the Earl of Norbridge, could not be hurried in his dress—neither the most
pleasurable entertainment nor the most beautiful woman could ever induce him
to leave the house before every fold of his cravat lay perfectly in place—and
anyone who happened to be in his vicinity at that time could be subject to his
valet's attentions, should Colin judge that person unfashionable in any way.
Anthony had made that mistake more than once, and though his green
waistcoat, black coat, and tan breeches might pass Colin's inspection, his linen
lacked the proper amount of starch and was no longer blindingly white. His
evening shoes, though he'd done his best to shine them, were scuffed from
regular use. His chestnut hair had grown too long in the front; Colin had chided
him the week before for letting it fall into his eyes like a schoolboy—a look,
Colin had observed, that ruined his own sartorial perfection by association. As
Colin had only been half-joking, Anthony was certain if he stepped into the
room the valet would have scissors out in a trice.
Self-preservation sent him retreating downstairs, smiling. He couldn't be
annoyed by his friend's vanity; he understood Colin too well for that. He was
only glad that the other man had recently changed his style from brightly colored
silks and cosmetics to the simple elegance of a dandy—even if that elegance
took him almost two hours to achieve and, by all appearances, was now only
beginning the second hour.
Knowing from experience how that time could drag on, Anthony headed for
the earl's study. He'd been a frequent guest in the house for years, spending as
much time with the Ames-Beaumonts as with his own family, and the study had
always been one of his favorite rooms. Though much smaller than the library at
the earl's ancestral home in Derbyshire, it held a significant selection of volumes,
with enough variety to satisfy Norbridge's mercurial taste and Anthony's
predictable one.
He knocked once on the door out of habit—when he'd been a boy, the earl had
always required him to announce his presence in that manner—and chuckled
self-consciously. Norbridge wasn't inside and would not issue an authoritative
command to enter; Anthony had met with him that morning and, their business
completed, Norbridge had left for Derbyshire shortly thereafter.
Thinking of the agreement they'd reached, hollow resignation settled in
Anthony's stomach. In two days, he would join Norbridge's good friend, Major-
General Cole, on the Peninsula to serve as his personal physician for as long as
the campaign against Napoleon persisted. Norbridge had shaped the proposal as
a request, but Anthony had recognized it for what it was: a demand for
repayment of a debt.
A debt Anthony readily acknowledged, but would have preferred to settle
another way.
Any other way.
He sighed, closing the door behind him and walking along the bookshelves
lining the adjacent wall. Furnished with dark, heavy wood and rich fabrics, the
room was an impoverished scholar's luxurious dream; Anthony took little notice
of or pleasure in his surroundings. He hadn't indulged in a bout of self-pity since
childhood, but as he stared blankly at a leather-bound volume of Paradise Lost,
he thought spending the next hour privately whining to himself might be just the
thing.
The sudden clang of metal against stone drew his attention to the opposite end
of the library, and the invectives Anthony had been planning to hurl against God
silently expired on his tongue. Colin's twin sister, Lady Emily, stood with her
back to him, hair unbound, swinging a sword wildly at the marble fireplace; the
blade skidded across the mantle, knocking books and a small statue to the floor.
A deep scar in the stone revealed where she'd struck the first blow.
"Emily?" Surprise gave his query a sharp edge, and he briefly wondered if
she'd been sent by some higher power to purposely torment him on this day of
all days. Another reminder of everything he could never have and shouldn't want
to have.
Emily had constantly been at his and Colin's sides until they had begun
attending public school. Anthony had suffered a childish infatuation with her,
and his teenage years had been fraught with frustrated longing. But her head had
been filled with romantic dreams and noblemen, and she'd never looked twice at
her brother's poor, untitled playmate.
Eventually, he had outgrown his feelings for her, and they had become friends.
Their meetings had been brief and infrequent of late years, however, due to his
medical studies and her social schedule.
Having recently passed his exams, he'd thought to enjoy her bright and
humorous company more often, and to renew their friendship—but Spain and his
duty to her father would make that impossible.
His certainty that he was the butt of a cosmic joke faded when she stiffened,
and the sword froze mid-swing. She turned to glare at him and spoke through
clenched teeth. Firelight glinted against trails of moisture on her cheeks. "Get
out, Anthony. I don't want to hurt you."
He eyed the sword warily but didn't move. If she'd simply been weeping over
some feminine dilemma, he would have been the gentleman and left, but concern
for her safety prevented him from leaving her alone to act out her rage and
violence.
He had thought he'd witnessed all of her moods, but the pinch of her elegant
brow and the angry, bitter slant to her mouth was new. Emily possessed a
perpetually sunny, dreamy disposition; over their long acquaintance, he'd seen
her upset only a few times. It would not be too difficult to help her regain her
natural good humor. He would stay until she did, and until he was certain she
would cause no harm to herself.
And despite her warning, he did not feel he would be in danger. He had no
fear that Emily would turn on him.
